This snowy January day makes me yearn for roses, the wonderfully scented varieties that bloom in the garden on a glorious June morning.~

“Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.”~Mark Overby

“You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose.”
~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

“Life is a rose; beware of the thorns.”
“Beauty without virtue is like a rose without scent.”
~Proverb Quote

“How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said.”
~ Victor Hugo

“The fragrance always remains in the hand that gives the rose.”

“Love is like a rose. It looks beautiful on the outside…but there is always pain hidden somewhere.”

“Do not watch the petals fall from the rose with sadness, know that, like life, things sometimes must fade, before they can bloom again.”

“The splendor of the rose and the whitness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its lovliness.”
~Therese of Lisieux
“The rose is a flower of love. The world has acclaimed it for centuries. Pink roses are for love hopeful and expectant. White roses are for love dead or forsaken, but the red roses, ah the red roses are for love triumphant.”

“He who wants a rose must respect the thorn.” Persian Proverb
“If I had a rose for every time I thought of you, I’d be picking roses for a lifetime.” Swedish Proverb

“Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose From out night’s gray and cloudy sheath; Softly and still it grows and grows, Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.” Susan Coolidge

Their lips were four red roses on a stalk. ~William Shakespeare
The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
-~John Boyle O’Reilly

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies.
~Christopher Marlowe

The rose that lives its little hour
Is prized beyond the sculptured flower.

Here bloom red roses, dewy wet,
And beds of fragrant mignonette.
~Elaine Goodale

The rose is fairest when ’tis budding new,
And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears.
- Sir Walter Scott

She wore a wreath of roses,
The night that first we met.
~Thos. Haynes Bayly

We can complain because rose bushes have thorns,
or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.
Abraham Lincoln

This old world that we’re livin’ in
Is might hard to beat.
You get a thorn with every Rose
But – ain’t the roses sweet?
Frank Stanton

I’d rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck.
~Emma Goldman
God gave us our memories so that we might have roses in December.
~J. M. Barrie

“You are beautiful, but you are empty. One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you–the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered.” ~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

“Love is like the wild rose-briar;
Friendship like the holly-tree.
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms,
But which will bloom most constantly?”
~Emily Bronte

They are not, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream,
Our path emerges for a while, then closes,
Within a dream.”~Ernest Dowson

And she was fair as is the rose in May.” ~Geoffrey Chaucer

“Truths and roses have thorns about them.” ~Henry David Thoreau

Today I am pleased to welcome mutlti-published author, Sandra Cox, who will tell us about the characters of her recent released romance novel,


We all know folks that work in a family business. In our area, two sisters got their degrees in art, couldn’t find a job and decided to open a quilt shop which has become very successful. Many farmers keep their farm in the family for generations. And of course, there are several successful musical groups composed of family members. I’m sure you could add people you know to the family business list.

Cousins Jolene Sayer and Zoe Tempest are also in the family business although theirs is a bit more unusual. Jolene Sayer of Moon Watchers is a werewolf hunter. Her cousin Zoe Tempest of Vampire Island hunts vampires. They are alike in heart, tenacity and toughness. Oh yes, and they both love Pop-Tarts. But there it ends.

While Zoe is one of the best in her field she is a firm believer in dressing for success. No way, would she consider going into a fight with a chipped nail or shoes that didn’t match her outfit. She’s blonde and blue-eyed while her cousin is dark-haired, full lipped and sultry.

And while Jolene could look like a fashion plate if she chose, there’s no way she’s got time or the inclination to waste on fashion and makeup. Worn jeans, a flannel shirt or an old sweater, work just fine for her. Her one weakness: boots. She loves boots—as long as they’re serviceable. But blood runs deeper than fashion.

These two women would fight to the death for each other. The following excerpt tells a bit more about these beautiful young hunters:

(Zoe has just come to visit her cousin Jolene after hearing she may be in trouble. )

Zoe walked into the living room, the largest room in the cottage. Not that that’s saying much. She glanced around then danced to the window and looked out. “I like your cottage, Jo. Very homey.”
“It’s not exactly what you’re used to.”
“If you mean, it’s not old and moldering and setting on an eerie island. You’re right.”
“You got rid of the eerie piece of it when you cleared out the vamps.”
“Nice view.” I followed her gaze. The sun sparkled on the snow and weighed down tree limbs. A shiver ran through me as I remembered the Weres jumping at the window. Good thing I’d cleaned the drool off. It would definitely have spoiled the view.
Zoe wandered around the room. I tried to see it through her eyes: a clean but sparse room, its best feature the stone fireplace. A couple of ancient discolored paintings of the forest hung off center on the wall. A faded blue throw rug lay in front of a worn couch, another in front of the fireplace. Ah, home.
“Looks like we’ll be redecorating in our spare time.”
Great. I managed not to roll my eyes.
She stopped at the sofa. Little tufts of stuffing leaked at the seam, but the blue flowered cushions were clean. She eyed it cautiously then collapsed. The cushions sighed and settled around her.
“It’s really quite comfortable,” I defended.
“You bet. I love this place, Jo. It’s so,” she paused as if looking for the right word, “quaint,” she finished triumphantly. “It just needs some sprucing up.”
“So the bad-ass vamp hunter is going to spruce up my cottage?”
Zoe studied me as she slipped off her boots.
I squirmed.
“Not just your cottage, I think.” She tapped her chin with a perfectly manicured fingernail.
“No. No you’re not. We’ve been over this before. I’m not a girlie, girl. I’m a Were hunter. I don’t have time for that kind of nonsense.”
“Weres. Vamps. Whatever.” She shrugged. “It’s no excuse for not looking your best.”
If you didn’t know my cousin Zoe, you wouldn’t take her seriously. She looks more like a ball of fluff than the Kewpie Doll, but I’d seen the girl in action. She could kick some serious vamp ass. My Uncle Julian--okay distant uncle--spoke highly of her. Words of praise don’t exactly drip off his tongue, if you know what I mean. So when he says someone’s good, you can notch it up to the stellar level.
“God, I’ve missed you.” I’m not given to expressing my emotions. The words just slipped out.
“Missed you too, Cuz. Now tell me what’s going on.”

To celebrate the release of Moon Watchers, I’ll be running a contest from Jan 15 and Feb 2. The winner will be announced Feb 5. To enter just leave a comment at and mention Moon Watchers and fuzzy slippers.

What do you win?
1-An autographed copy of Moon Watchers
2-A Starbucks gift certificate
3-And a fun necklace that has a protective cross to safeguard against creatures of the night, a blood drop stone to remind shape-shifters you are protected and a star since our winner will be the star of the contest

Moon Watchers can be purchased in paper or e at:
Vampire Island can be purchased in paper or e at:
Vampire Island is also available on Amazon and other e sites.

About Sandra
Multi-published author Sandra Cox writes YA fantasy, historic and paranormal romance and metaphysical nonfiction.

Sandra lives with her husband, a menagerie of pets, and an occasional foster cat in sunny North Carolina. To see the brood click on the cat tab.

Her fifteenth book, MOON WATCHERS, a crossover romance will be released through Jan 15, 2011.

To visit her YA blog:

Blog written by JL Saint  aka Jennifer St. Giles!

The question is one I am sure all of us have asked many times about a number of things. If you are Michelle Pfeiffer then you know a murdering Harrison Ford is lurking beneath the surface of your suburban life. If you are the rock group, Breaking Benjamin, then you’re searching beneath a twisted smile in a Dear Agony Album. If you are a Criminal Minds’ BAU star then you’re deep into the hidden horrors of a killer’s psyche. And LOL if you happen to be in the Highlands with bagpipes then perhaps you are staring at Loch Ness wondering if the legendary monster really lives beneath the murky waves.

In some way we all wonder what lies beneath the surface of what we see. What truths lie beneath the headlines of a gripping news story or an explosive scandal? Finding the answers to that question is never easy because life if not black and white, and there are a multitude of layers coloring the answers.

So, whenever I sit down and write a book, I always ask myself “What lies beneath?” What lies beneath, the façade of a character? The dynamics of the plot? The world in which the story is set? The answers I find often reach into the very heart of the story I tell. When I settled on the title of Collateral Damage, the first book in my Silent Warrior Series, I was drawn to explore the deeper meanings beneath phrase that had been born from war.

The military defines collateral damage as "[the] unintentional damage or incidental damage affecting facilities, equipment, or personnel, occurring as a result of military actions directed against targeted enemy forces or facilities. Such damage can occur to friendly, neutral, and even enemy forces. Since its inception, collateral damage has come to mean so much more and is now applied to many areas of life.

Put simply, every action a person takes has intent, something they are trying to accomplish, and ninety-nine percent of the time there is a world of unintentional consequences as a result of that action.

In my story, Jack Hunter, Lauren Collins and her twin sons are victims of collateral damage, and not just in regards to the injuries Jack suffers on a military mission in Lebanon. Lauren and her sons’ lives are torn apart by the decisions made by her soon to be ex. It is a stark fact in life that all of us are affected by the collateral damage from the choices other people make. And others are damaged by the choices we make, too. As Lauren and Jack realize this in their lives, they also learn from each other one very important thing. How they deal with the fallout of the collateral damage is what determines the quality of their future.

Can you see this in your own life?

Now that I likely went too deep, let me tell you that my Silent Warrior Series are romantic thrillers featuring military heroes and heroines with extraordinary hearts. Book one, Collateral Damage came out in December. The story starts two weeks after Jack has been seriously wounded on a FUBAR mission in Lebanon. Jack sees the picture of prominent American businessman, Bill Collins, on the news as having died yesterday in Brazil. Jack’s sketchy memory is telling him he killed Collins in Lebanon two weeks ago but nobody believes Jack.

Jack leaves the hospital and goes AWOL to uncover the truth. Instead of answers, he gets assassins, more questions, and a terrorist plot that threatens to ignite a world war. As he fights to keep Lauren, Bill’s estranged widow and her twin sons alive, he lays more than his life on the line and stands to lose everything when the truth behind Bill’s death comes to light.

Meet Jack “DT” Hunter…

Shorter of breath and one day closer to death…

Pink Floyd’s “Time” hammered through Sergeant First Class Jack Hunter’s brain as he tightened his grip on the treadmill and ran harder, his heart pounding, his lungs burning. Rage tinged with fear made for a potent Power Bar that fueled his drive. Sweat poured from his brow and his body screamed for relief, but he couldn’t stop. Not yet. His vision dimmed, and President Anderson’s address on the overhead TV calling for a swift but rational retaliation to al-Qaeda’s latest attack became nothing but a blur in his mind.

Life often hinged on the details, those seemingly insignificant microscopic events that most people trampled over obliviously. He’d trained to notice the details and to remember them. Yet no matter how hard he tried, his memory of the mission in Lebanon remained a kaleidoscope of combat images and one man’s mocking blue eyes…Jack clenched his teeth against the rising pain inside him. He took being team leader to heart both on and off the battlefield. The mission and his men were his responsibility. Rico, Pecos and Neil were his Delta brothers, and it killed him that he could only remember bits and pieces of what happened.

They’re here, DT. They’re alive! Will Taylor’s—aka Pecos—distorted voice echoed in Jack’s mind, sucking him down a long tunnel of fragmented memories… Suddenly Jack’s head jerked back as his headphones were snatched off and Lt. Col. Roger Weston, his Delta Team commander, whom the teams called Commander Weston because anything less didn’t fit his hard-edged charisma, got in his face. “Son of a bitch, DT. Are you trying to kill yourself?”

You can read the full excerpt at and for a chance to win an ARC email to and tell me how you would choose for Lauren and Jack to meet each other for the first time.

Buy it today on Amazon at

Look for Collateral Damage in print on 11/1/11

Look for Book Two of the Silent Warrior Series, Tactical Deception to be released November 2011.

Enjoy the story and huge thanks to Pink Fuzzy Slippers for having me today

JL Saint aka Jennifer St. Giles.

Here is the face of a winner!

Remember my pal Dale Mayer? Remember the Brava Writing with the Stars contest? Well, Dale is now one of the LAST FOUR standing with her romantic suspense novel Tuesday's Child. How utterly awesome! I would love to see her go all the way!


This round the voting is on the best secondary character and goes from January 17th to January 30th. If you get a minute, please stop by and vote for her. First prize is a publishing contract with Brava!

Sometimes winners need our help.


Dale is one busy lady. Check out her publishing industry updates below

The Publishing Daily has just been updated, and you can view it at

The Writers’ Daily has just been updated, and you can view it at

The Dale Mayer Daily has just been updated, and you can view it at

That quote by Benjamin Franklin gives a powerful feel for the turbulent atmosphere that swept the country during the American Revolution.  I spent years researching and writing historical romance novel, ENEMY OF THE KING, an exciting journey back to the drama and romance of that time period, with a focus on the Southern face of the war. Think Carolina backcountry and Francis Marion, 'the Swamp Fox.'

Blurb: 1780, South Carolina: While Loyalist Meriwether Steele recovers from illness in the stately home of her beloved guardian, Jeremiah Jordan, she senses the haunting presence of his late wife.  When she learns that Jeremiah is a Patriot spy and shoots Captain Vaughan, the British officer sent to arrest him, she is caught up on a wild ride into Carolina back country, pursued both by the impassioned captain and the vindictive ghost. Will she remain loyal to her king and Tory twin brother or risk a traitor’s death fighting for Jeremiah? If Captain Vaughan snatches her away, he won’t give her a choice."~

ENEMY OF THE KING currently has 13 Five Star reviews at Amazon, and nothing less.  I don't have any control over what readers leave there so this strikes me as significant, but it also means not enough people are reading it.  Every story has its critics.  Come out, come out, wherever you are.  But first, you have to read the book.  If you'd like to take the challenge and see if ENEMY OF THE KING lives up to its reputation, I welcome your thoughts.  Leave it a review.  

ENEMY OF THE KING received a five cup review from Coffee Time Romance, earned Five Books and won book of the week at Long and Short Reviews, received a super review and a You Gotta Read rating from You Gotta Read, came in third at the 2009 Publisher's Weekly BHB Reader's Choice Best Books, and made the Best Romance Novel list at Buzzle.

1780 South Carolina, spies and intrigue, a vindictive ghost, the battle of King’s Mountain, Patriots and Tories, pounding adventure, pulsing romance…ENEMY OF THE KING 

"An amazing and vibrant look into the American Revolutionary War...this sexy historical book is a must read!" ~Danielle Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance & More


     I subscribe to a Zen of the Day quote loop. Today’s quote is We cannot see our reflection...

     My first thoughts were what the heck does that mean? Every time I look in the mirror or see my reflection in the still waters of a pond, I see my smiling face. I had to search deeper to discover how that quote was relevant to my life.

     It’s three weeks into January and for some of us the resolutions and goals we set for ourselves have become just desires we don’t act upon. I made a resolution in 2010 to put my butt in my office chair and write six days a week. Did I succeed?

     No. Well, why not?

     Because I didn’t see my reflection in my goals. In other words I didn’t understand why I wanted to achieve them. Thoughts of becoming rich and famous didn’t motivate me. Neither did the idea that storytelling is in my blood so I must write every day or I won’t find any peace.

     I had to dig deeper.

     I asked myself, “What did I want from life?” And even deeper, “What will enhance the quality of my life?” My answers surprised me. None of them were self-centered. I realized I have to help others to find peace and achieve their dreams, because when the people (and that includes you) I love are content, I’m happy.

    My life started out on a rocky path, and I’ve had some challenges along the way. But God blessed me with a gift for writing stories. And that gift is my reflection. So how do I show it to others?

     First, I have to slow down and live in the present moment. I only have control over the decision I make this second.

     Second, I have to surrender that decision to the universe. This means I no longer worry about past rejections or future sales. I keep my attention on helping others.

     And third, trust that when the time is right, my work will be rewarded, my dreams fulfilled.

     This year I’m working on my romantic suspense series which I hope will entertain. I’m also writing a memoir to celebrate how the struggles in my life aren’t really a hardship but my pathway to becoming the best person I can become.

     Before I close, I want to remind you to honor your successes. I did achieve some goals in 2010. I sold an erotic paranormal story After Glow to Wild Rose Press ( and continued to enjoy a wonderful fellowship with my family and friends.

     Now it’s your turn. How do you plan to see your reflection?

The Pink Fuzzy Slipper writers welcome, Erica DeLongpre, and Damian Xeres, to our blog.  Their love story is ageless, and they are here to tell us about their lives. Bianca Swan, talented author, has told their story to the world, and they are now celebrities. Bianca is also here with us, and she is more then willing to spill the beans about Erica and Damian’s touching love affair. Welcome everyone. Please help yourself to the refreshments. Relax and sit back while I pull the extra secrets outta them.

Mary:  Erica, you look lovely today. Where did you get that wonderful outfit? (

Erica:  Thanks, Mary. Glad you like it. I got it in Middleburg, Virginia, where I live.  It’s Ralph Lauren.  He likes to model clothes after equestrian attire.  Of course, I liked it because it does look like an English country lady’s riding habit. (Not the outfit in the pix of course! That was a summer garden party)

Mary: Damian, I understand that you are a bullfighter. Have you ever been hurt during a bull fight?(pic of Damian)

Damian:  Dios, Mary, who gave you a picture of me in my underwear?

(Mary glances at Erica)

(Erica winks at Damian): I did.

(Damian smiles) Later we shall come to a reckoning, Isabella.  To your question, Mary.  As yet, I have not been injured with the bulls.  Once I thought the bull was going to gore my horse, which would have put us face-to-face, but my Regaldo darted out of the way.  He is very brave and agile, my horse for the banderillos, the second tercio of the fight when we engage the bull. Regaldo is a rare black Andalusian, and he is very fond of Erica, who likes to work him in the long lines.  In long-line work, you stand within inches of the horse’s rump.

Mary:  My Erica, you do that? What’s the difference between what you do and just using a lunge line? Explain to the readers what it is you do with the long lines, will you?

Erica:  Long lining is like driving the horse without a cart basically.  One line goes down each side of the horse and passes through a circle on a surcingle.  You stand inches from the horse’s rump and ask him to perform movements with the lines.  You can even do airs above the ground in the lines but, of course, you do not stand as close behind him.

Mary:  Damian, I have often wondered how the bull feels about the whole thing, any thoughts?

Damian:  The bulls are enraged by the color and movement.  I do not think, merely act on instinct.  I have seen brave horses and rejoneadors severely injured by fury on the hoof.  How do I feel about the actual death of the bull?  From the moment he enters the arena, it is him or me.

Mary: I would never go into a ring with a raging bull that has been further enraged by the guys with the stick thingees they really piss the bulls off.  (Mary shivers as she contemplates a pissed off bull). It can’t be a safe job to have.

(Damian laughs): Those thingees are rejones de castigo ("lances of punishment").  Bullfighting isn’t my job.  Like classical dressage, it is a passion. I manage the family sherry business, accept students in our riding school and also oversee the breeding operation.

Mary:  Erica, what made you become interested in the Andalusian breed of horse in particular? 

Erica:  Their noble looks and regal bearing.  Once I learned that they were gifted for the higher levels of dressage, including the airs above the ground, I was in love.  I haven’t looked back since. They are smooth gaited and the stallions are exceptionally gentle.  Perhaps this occurred when King Ferdinand decreed that all noble gentlemen must ride stallions.

Mary:  Here Erica let me refill your glass. It’s mighty warm today and that Florida sun is just merciless!
Try some of these delicious salsas. I never knew there could be so many kinds. Bianca I see you are
just dying to jump in here. How did you meet Erica and Damian, and how did you com to write their
wonderful love story?  

Bianca:  I met them late on a Saturday afternoon when the sun slanted through the Plantation shutters, glinting on a wine glass on my desk and drawing pictures on the marble floor.  The piano played Andalusia.  A scented candle spilled summery scents into the air.  Erica and Damian walked into my head and told me their story. Though I was listening to another character, they insisted.  I didn’t regret the distraction because their story involves my favorite horse.  I bred, trained and showed the Andalusian for thirteen happy years.

Mary:  Well then Bianca, they came to you in a vision of sorts and you had to tell their story. I understand that the stallions are easier to handle than other breeds of horses. They remind me of cutting horses trained Western. They have to be able to move fast and in the right direction. So they are controlled purely with leg
pressure commands?

Bianca: Legs and seat.  My stallion would half-pass across the arena if I sat heavier on one side.

Mary: Damian, you do look pretty hot in your undies. (Mary smiles and sighs) Anyways, why don’t the matadors use some kind of protection? Those bulls look mighty nasty. Are they trained to be mean?

Damian (A wicked grin from the bullfighter):  I’m sure you look good in your undies too, Mary.  (He shakes his long hair back) Your protection is your skill and not much would protect you from a fierce Iberian bull.  The bulls are not trained to be mean.  They are bred for the fight.

Mary:  Erica, did you have riding lessons or were you the jump on the horse and take your chances type like me. I hit the dirt a lot of times. Lucky my cushioning saved me several times as I flew over a horse’s head or off the other end.  Damian, I know you’d much rather ride double. (Mary chuckles and passes a tray of fragrant Hor’de’ourves to her guests.) She pops one into her own mouth and can testify to their great taste.

Erica:  I have studied riding since I was four years old.  My family, with the exception of my sister, are all horsemen.  I went to Spain for two reasons.  To study with Damian at his famous school and to buy an Andalusian stallion. (She smiles, looks at Damian)  I did buy a horse, and Damian taught me a lot about riding.

Mary:  Damian, what did you first think when you met Erica? Were you attracted to her right away?
Damian: I thought golden girl, Isabella.  I thought she was beautiful with her blonde hair and blue eyes.  And those legs! Yes, I was immediately attracted to her, but our fathers are business associates.  And a riding instructor and a pupil—not a good idea.

Mary:  Bianca, did you know anything about bull fighting before you met Damian and Erica? Ever been
to Spain? It must be a beautiful country.

Bianca: What I knew about bullfighting wouldn’t fill a page.  I had to research rejoneadors and found the subject fascinating.  I’d love to see a bull fight, but I’d be on the edge of my seat.  Unfortunately, I’ve never been to Spain but it is top of my list of places to visit.  You would have thought that breeding Spanish horses for years I’d have visited their birthplace, but the chance never arose.  My stallion was from Costa Rica, and I went to their big show several times.  Once I even bought a horse in an auction there.

Mary: What do you have in the works, Bianca?

Bianca:  I’ve signed a contract with The Wild Rose Press (a Scarlet Rose) for a novella about a fallen angel titled Celestial Sin.  I’m very excited about this release because angels seem to be the new wave.  Briefly, Cam-ael, an angel of the Order of the Powers, is injured in battle, falls into a woman’s arms—and wants to stay there.  I don’t have a release date yet, but will post something on my blog when I do.  Bianca’s Blog

Mary:  Bianca’s website is:  Bianca Swan
Hot Spanish Nights is available at:  The Wild Rose Press

Any last comments that anyone would like to add?

(Erica takes Mary’s hand) Thank you for having us on the Pink Fuzzies today.

Well I can’t help but want to know how the romance is going? Erica?

(Erica glances at Damian and shrugs)  We don’t know. I’m off to medical school and Damian is…we might have a long distance affair.

(Damian cocks his head and stares at Erica)

I want to thank the three of you for participating in this interview. You amaze me Bianca. I wish you the very best with sales and I see you as a bright new star in the world of reading. And I  for one am looking forward to some ‘Hot Spanish Nights’

Erica DeLongpre was living her fantasy.
At last, she was in Spain, in Andalusia.
And in lust.
She and tall, dark and handsome Damián Xérès rode the magnificent gray stallion bareback. This enticing man smelled of horses and leather, and he was all man, from the top of his head to the tips of his shiny riding boots—an enchanting journey of about six feet-two-inches. The horse’s silvery mane whipped in the breeze. Flowers spilled their scent into the morning. The sun on the white sand of the riding arena was blinding, like a dream.
She closed her eyes, pictured the man behind her. His brilliant white shirt, open at the neck, showed a sprinkling of dark hair on his chest. She leaned back pretending the strong arm lightly circling her waist hugged her tight against that muscled chest. As she rocked with the cadence of the horse’s canter, she imagined Damián’s shaft pressed to her butt. When she visualized how his erection would look in the tight riding breeches, a pleasant shiver glided over her.
Mustn’t let my imagination run away like this.
“Sit deep,” he said, and her fantasy became a reality as he slid closer.
His long legs molded to hers, stroked ever so slightly to the three-beat thud of hooves. Sweat broke on her brow. Her heart pounded in her ears, reverberating in her core. She should inch away from the hard pressure on her ass, but he felt too damned good. Images of turning around and doing him on the horse scrolled through her mind. She lost the rhythm of the stallion’s smooth gait and slid to the side.
Damián’s arm closed around her waist, steadying her. “We must work on your seat, Erica. You look beautiful on a horse, but you must become one with him.”
Thinking of becoming one with him—the man not the horse—caused the problem.